


Face to face

by captainhurricane



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M, PWP, dub-con, general Venom-sadness, major phantom pain spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4929472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>with the man who sold the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Face to face

**Author's Note:**

> obviously spoilers af.

Fingers catch on the broken pieces of the mirror, trousers are shoved midthigh. The empty tape clicks but Big Boss’s voice still echoes, his words slithering under Snake’s skin.

”Boss,” whispers Snake, captain Ahab, this broken-minded creature as he blinks, hand around his dick. All it takes is to wish for it and there he is: the boss, Ishmael, the snake in the garden. The one Ahab would give his all to- has given his all to. Whatever he was before. His body, his mind, his soul. Ishmael reaches, bends Ahab lower.

”You’ve done good, my phantom. So good,” Ishmael’s voice is tinged with affection, with such love that Ahab would go to hell for him even if the love is fake and there is nothing but twisted greed in Ishmael’s shriveled heart. Even when Ishmael steps closer, the bulge in his leather pants hard and big against Ahab’s bare ass. Ahab squeezes his eye closed, takes a deep breath. Hears a zipper open, more rustling of clothes.

 

_(”You can call me Ishmael.”)_

 

Big Boss doesn’t prepare him, pushes his throbbing dick inside with every agonizing inch.

”Stay quiet,” Ishmael hisses, his hand grabs Ahab’s ponytail and tugs, hard. Ahab whines.

”Quiet,” comes another order and Ahab tries his hardest, his best but the pained moan still comes. That gets him leather-clad fingers shoved into his mouth and a dick deeper into his ass, deeper and deeper until Ishmael sighs.

 

_(”On me.”)_

 

It’s blood or semen or both that trickles down Ahab’s thighs. The air is stuffy and hot. Somewhere, far away, their Heaven is filled with screams and gunfire. Somewhere, somehow, another snake is marching forward in a path leading to true heaven. Not Outer Heaven, not this blood-filled hell of eternal war.

 

_(”Big Boss can go to hell.”)_

 

Ishmael’s grip is tight enough to tear out hair as he starts fucking Ahab, driving into that needy, scarred body with all the rage and strength in him. Ahab twists and twitches, writhes and moans.

”No, no, no-”

”Take it, soldier!”

Ahab trashes, the powerful body tight and tense. Drool slithers down his lip as Ishmael’s fingers are shoved deeper until he gags.

The slapping of skin against skin is obscene but it’s nothing compared to the glass shards under Ahab’s fingers, to the merciless movement of Ishmael’s hips. To his dick, like a fiery harpoon being shoved inside Ahab. Again and again and again until all Ahab sees is a bloody, blurry haze.

 

”You’re my dog. My phantom,” growls Ishmael, his voice coming from behind him, in his ear. In his head.

”Yes,” Ahab grunts, tears stinging his only working eye.

”Good dog.” Such gentleness in a voice that only knows violence. Ishmael drives deeper, even as Ahab spills his load helplessly. Even as Ishmael himself climaxes, holding onto Ahab’s ponytail until few dark strands are left tangled in his fingers.

_(”One last mission.”)_

 

Ahab breathes. Blinks.

 

Ahab takes a deep breath. Blinks.

 

The face staring back at him from the unbroken mirror is older. The hair is short and pale grey. The body remembers pain. Ahab takes a deep breath. Ahab takes a deep breath. Death nibbles at his ankles.

 

”You did good, my phantom. My legacy.”

 

Ahab, the Big Boss that was, lights a cigar. The face staring back at him from the mirror is not his.


End file.
